Riding the Line (5 page)
Robyn grabbed the quilt and shuffled toward the bathroom. She didn’t feel hungry, rarely did anymore, but the coffee smelt good. Even while she showered, she could hear Dakota whistling something cheery through the thin walls. Part of her longed to slap his face, to tell him that life sucked and then got worse.
She emerged wrapped in one of the threadbare orange towels to find him gone. With a curse, she slid back into her bra and underwear, grabbed her coat and quickly braided her wet hair. A paper cup full of coffee sat beside her purse. She picked up both items and headed for the door. A knot of anxiety formed in her gut. Had he gone? Would he be that cruel?
She blinked at the sunlight and then stopped as a shadow fell over her. Dakota leant up against the motel wall, hat low on his head, booted feet crossed at the ankle. He smiled down at her.
‘You ready?’ he asked.
She flipped her braid over her shoulder and fiddled with the end. ‘Why are you always so frickin’ cheerful? We’re stuck in this God-awful place. There’s nothing to do, nothing to see and probably nothing to eat either.’
He pushed off the wall. ‘You’re wrong about that. I promised you breakfast, didn’t I?’
She followed him, admiring his long elegant stride and the confidence with which he moved through the quiet sun-drenched streets. She grimaced at his back. How in hell could she still find him attractive after he’d rejected her? But that had always been her problem, hadn’t it? The worse a guy treated her, the more she liked it.
‘You know, Dakota’s a girl’s name.’
He stopped walking and turned back. Robyn instinctively crossed her arms over her chest as he loomed over her. At least he’d stopped smiling.
‘It’s a perfectly good traditional name for a guy, so shut up.’
She opened her eyes wide. ‘Ooh, have I hit a nerve? Did you get beat up a lot in the school yard for being a big pansy?’
His smile returned, although this time it wasn’t pleasant. ‘A lot of guys tried, but they stopped after I beat the crap out of them.’
‘Wow, what a hero. Am I supposed to be impressed?’
‘Nope, you’re supposed to shut up, change the subject and come get something to eat.’
Robyn licked her lips and considered him. How far could she push him? How far before he lost his temper and revealed his true colors?
‘So it doesn’t bother you then, having a girl’s name?’
A muscle twitched in his cheek. ‘Nope, not at all.’
‘Are you sure about that?’
She resumed walking, deliberately brushed against him as she sashayed past. His hand fastened around her elbow and drew her close into his side.
‘Robyn’s not exactly a girl’s name either, is it?’
She sniffed. ‘It is so, especially when spelled with a “y”. You’re just saying that because you’re mad.’
‘I’m not mad. I never get mad. Life’s too short.’
She squinted up at him, wished she’d remembered to put on her sunglasses. ‘You are so full of crap.’
‘Because I try to be positive?’
‘Because you say all this stupid stuffas if it’s true, as if life really doesn’t suck and that people really can love you for what you are.’ Horrified, she jammed her lips shut before she said anything else.
He gazed down at her, his mouth a hard line. ‘So just because you’re a negative person, I’m not allowed to be happy, right?’
She gritted her teeth. ‘You can be as happy as you like, just keep it to yourself, OK?’
He released her arm and stepped back; his annoying smile reappeared. ‘Man, you’re crabby in the mornings.’
‘I’m crabby, period. Now show me where the food is or I’ll scream.’
He pointed down Main Street to a small shopfront with tables set outside. ‘Olly’s Diner, ma’am, be my guest.’
She stomped across the road inhaling the heavenly scent of fresh-roasted coffee, pancakes and maple syrup. For the first time in weeks, she actually felt hungry. She’d spent so many years trying different combinations of diets and pills to keep her thin and relaxed and energetic and sexy and . . . somewhere along the way, she’d lost her appetite for real food.
She squeezed into the cracked red leatherette seat and slid along until she reached the window. Dakota sat opposite her and reached for the menu, obscuring his face from view. She studied the lines of text but she already knew what she was going to have.
‘How’re you folks doing today?’
The plump middle-aged waitress wore a pink nylon check dress and lace apron. Her grey hair was pulled back into an untidy bun at the base of her neck.
‘Just fine, ma’am. How about yourself?’
Robyn smirked behind her menu. Trust the cowboy to come up with the correct response. She wasn’t used to talking to wait staff. In her more bratty days she’d had it written into her contract that no one apart from her family and the director was allowed to speak to her, let alone make eye contact.
‘I’m doing just fine. Now what can I get you?’
Dakota turned to Robyn and she hastily concealed her amusement. Somehow she sensed that he wouldn’t take kindly to her laughing at the older woman. She cleared her throat.
‘I’ll have decaf coffee and pancakes with maple syrup.’ Dakota raised his eyebrows and she found herself muttering, ‘Please.’
‘And I’ll have coffee and the big breakfast, please, ma’am.’
The waitress scribbled the order down on her pad and beamed at Dakota. ‘And how do you like your eggs, honey?’
‘Over easy, please.’
‘Not like your women, then,’ Robyn said as the waitress turned away.
Dakota studied her intently. ‘You sure know how to hold a grudge, don’t you?’
‘You turned me down. You deserve everything you get.’ She looked out of the window to avoid his gaze.
‘I lost my taste for over easy on the rodeo circuit.’
His flat tone roused her interest but she refused to turn around and look at him. Instead she traced patterns with her fingertip in the condensation on the glass.
‘Women were all over you? You poor, poor man.’ Her sarcasm earned her nothing more than a quiet chuckle.
‘Actually, you’re right. It did become a pain in the ass. They didn’t really want me, just the thrill of hanging on the arm of a professional cowboy.’
She blinked slowly allowing the glare from outside to distort her vision. Yeah, she knew how that felt. To have people wanting to be seen with you for what you were rather than for who you were. She shrugged those painful memories away.
‘I’ve never heard a guy worry about getting too much before. What’s the problem? Can’t you keep it up?’
Stony silence greeted her comment and she tensed. Would he finally lose it? The waitress brought the coffee and food. Robyn pretended to fuss over her pancakes and find her cutlery. Eventually she had to look up and found herself staring straight into Dakota’s hazel eyes.
‘I can keep it up just fine, thank you.’
‘As I’m unlikely to ever need to know that information, thanks for nothing.’
He winked. ‘You’ve given up on me already?’
‘I don’t give second chances.’
‘And why’s that?’
‘Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me.’
He slowly chewed some toast and swallowed. ‘See there’s my problem. I never feel ashamed of anything I do, especially in bed.’
Robyn licked her lips and tasted maple syrup and coffee. Despite his amiable farm-boy exterior, Dakota was as sharp as a tack. Perhaps she’d better be more careful about baiting him.
‘Well, with all your extensive “experience” you should know better than to brag.’
He shook his head. ‘That was lame, Robyn. What’s up? Lost your nerve?’
‘Not at all. I’m just trying to back away from you and your huge ego.’
He sat back, coffee mug in hand and stretched. Her gaze was drawn to the flexing muscles in his chest and shoulders. His smile was slow and deliberately sexy. ‘But is it ego when it’s all true?’
‘You are one of the most irritating and conceited men I’ve ever met.’
‘Thanks. From you, I’ll take that as a compliment.’
Dakota glanced across at his silent companion. She hadn’t said a word since they’d left the diner. He’d enjoyed seeing her eat though, enjoyed teasing her too if he was truthful. But then she’d clammed up and all the easiness between them disappeared just like that. Of course that was women all over. One minute everything was fine, the next – nothing. He could never keep up.
‘This isn’t the way back to the motel,’ she said.
‘You’re right.’ He kept walking, waited for her to speak again.
‘Then where are we going?’
‘Back to my truck. I told you I have stuff to do.’
She stopped and stuck her hands in her pockets. ‘Then do it. Give me the key and I’ll go back by myself.’
‘My, you have a lousy memory, don’t you?’
‘What?’
She raised her chin to glare at him, her dark eyes striking sparks. He fought back an appreciative smile.
‘I said I need some help and you’re it.’
‘I can’t fix your truck and I’m certainly not pushing it.’
‘No? A big strong girl like you?’
Leaving her rooted to the spot, he kept walking until he reached his pickup and unlocked the driver’s door, letting out the accumulated heat. He fished inside the glovebox and found his other set of keys. Robyn’s shadow fell across him as he turned around.
‘The truck doesn’t work, dumb ass. It is broken,’ she said.
‘These aren’t for the truck.’
He unlocked the double back doors of the trailer and let them swing wide. The familiar smell of horse manure and leather washed over him. Two of the narrow diagonal stalls were empty awaiting the return of his horses, the third was full. With a satisfied grunt, Dakota whipped off the sheet covering his other pride and joy.
‘It’s a motorcycle.’
He smiled at Robyn. ‘Yeah. And not just any motorcycle, it’s a Ducati 1098.’
‘Is that supposed to impress me?’
‘I doubt anything would impress you, lady.’ He kicked off the stand and reversed the bike out of the stall. ‘We just need to clean it up and then we can go shopping.’
‘Shopping?’
Dakota turned away to hide his grin at her sudden interest. He’d never met a woman who didn’t like to shop sometimes. From behind the bike he picked up the bucket of cleaning supplies and brought them outside.
‘We have to clean it up first.’
Robyn stared at the cleaning stuff Dakota unloaded from the bucket. ‘I don’t
clean
.’
clean
.’
‘Then you don’t shop.’
He stared at her, the smile gone from his face. Underneath that smooth charm was a rugged determination to get his own way that rivaled her own. But she did need to shop, even if only for new panties. He picked up the now empty bucket and rolled up his sleeves.
‘I’ll get some water from the gas station. Why don’t you start by dusting the chrome?’
He turned his back on her and sauntered across to the gas station. Robyn shaded her eyes against the sun and glared after him. Clean the bike? What would he ask her to do next, his laundry? Fuck that. With a martyred sigh she picked up a duster and flicked it over the handlebars of the bike.
Who would’ve thought Dakota would own such a flashy yellow bike? It looked expensive, and she knew expensive. She’d pictured him on an old broken-down Harley not something so obviously European. She frowned at her distorted expression in the chrome. Yet another inconsistency in that wholesome exterior, yet another façade. Was there anyone left in the world who was exactly what they said they were?
‘Move over.’
She jumped as Dakota crouched down beside her and squirted soap into the bucket of water. He handed her a sponge.
‘Don’t clean the seat, just the metal, OK? I’ll start on the other side.’
She started slow, glancing across at him as he worked, his concentration all on the bike and not her. Sweat collected on her brow and trickled down her face.
‘Why don’t you take your coat off?’
He finally looked across at her and she smiled.
‘What if I don’t want to?’
‘Then you’ll probably die of heat exhaustion.’ He continued his loving attention to the bike and Robyn pouted.
‘That’s good to know.’ She risked another glance at him. ‘Are you going to make me?’
‘Take your coat off? Nope, you’re a big girl; you can make up your own mind.’
‘So you’d rather I got sick than help me.’
Silence. She stared at his averted face and sighed loudly, flapping her hand in front of her heated face.
‘Oh God, I think I’m going to faint.’
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